Where there is Smoke there is Fire
by Qeztotz
Summary: When several fresh regiments are raised and dispatched to Phaedra, someone must lead them. That someone is McKellan, grizzled veteran. The problem is that he hasn't a clue what he's doing and the enemy is far more advanced, far better trained and far more willing to fight for control of the world. And that's without the traitorous guard units on their side.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome scumbags to Phaedra, welcome to hell, you will be spending the rest of your life here. Those who survive a week should consider themselves lucky. Those who survive longer should consider themselves cursed.

Phaedra is a Beta-Omega class planet. Tropical and Fungal sub-classes. Too docile to be called a deathworld but it kills too many to be called an agriworld. Native population caps out at just under a million, and their technology is just past the wheel. Natural resources are scant, minimal metalurgic reserves and decay-form promethium are the main Imperial and Xenos interest. 76% of the planet is water, unsafe to drink due to a high bacterial and fungal growths. Landmasses are scattered and mostly take the form of small island chains and archipelagos. Humidity is through the roof. As you can see, the sky is a sickly filth of promethium processing contamination and fungal spores. Local fauna are varying sizes of insect, crustacean and arachnid, ranging from the size of an earth-average Caterpillar to tank sized monsters, all species are hostile and potentially lethal. Particular note should be taken of "scrabs" the local equivelent of rats, their teeth are covered in bacteria and are not scared of us. Flora is the interesting part, almost all of Phaedra's surface is covered with jungle and fungal growth, some of which are luminescent and many are hostile to human life. A wide variety of the fungi are infectious and can cause slow and painful death. Report all unnatural symptoms to your section's Medicae officer.

Nice setting isn't it? Sound's like a great place for a holiday.

How about a war?

* * *

"Come on private Kell, this ain't that steep!"

"I've seen nicer 90 degree inclines you fucking arsehole." Mckellan mutters to himself.

3 months he has spent here in the arse end of the eastern spiral fringe of the galaxy. For the umpteenth time he asks himself why signed up for the imperial guard. He promptly shrugs, plops down the keg of fish he was carrying and heads back for another. Peter Ian McKellan is not an overly troubled man. Well, as untroubled as one can be when the lady Phaedra wants your guts for garters.

Having spent a considerable amount of time, dodging, ducking, weaving and staying out of the line of fire, McKellan is considered to be a veteran of the war. Naturally command is keen to capitalize on his skill, they make him a supply runner (har-dee-fucking-har), moving kegs up the beach from the landing craft to the camp. Taxing work, but far better than being shot at in anyone's book.

"Troops, assemble!" Shouts old lieutenant Greggori from the bottom of the hill.

"What now boss? There some more barrels to lug?" The next grunt asks.

"The only barrels you're going to lug from now on will be gun barrels, your prayers have been answered, a big push is coming and the top brass want veterans like yourselves on the pointy end. Maybe they think you can kick some of the newbies into a semblance of a soldier? Either way, pack yer gear, youre headed inland at first light. Oh yeah, finish off moving these crates whilst your here, wouldn't want to leave a mess now would we."

McKellan takes a look at the other's faces and makes a little bet to himself that he is going to be the only one left by tommorow evening. They may be veterans, but on Phaedra that means that only means you are very good at ducking when the las and plasma start flying. Mckellan is probably the only one to have killed anything, and stabbing a wounded prisoner to death is not an honourable kill.

On the upside though, at least the death was quick, there are a dozen diseases that could kill you in a much more painful manner. Shoulda been given a human rights medal.

* * *

The intercom buzzes, "Ramp down in thirty Shas'ui."

"To your feet janissaries! Prep for combat! Thirty seconds!"

"Aye Shas'ui!"

_Shas'ui Fal'shia Mont'yr Che'lel_, more commonly known as Ui'Lel, stands in the Orca dropship's hold and surveys the human Janissaries under his command. From the short lived combat training alone he would say that about fourteen, maybe fifteen, of them were liable to get themselves killed from the start. The remaining forty-five have been trained well and will likely fall in a far more honorable manner. They are ready to do their duty for the greater good.

Unlike the fifty-nine other beings in the dropship, Ui'Lel is not human. He stands at five feet tall, wearing black segmented armour. Under the alloy carapace he has a humanoid body, cobalt skin, behooved feet and 4 digit hands. He is a Tau warrior of the fire caste.

Thunk. The ramp drops, the humidity rises and out the door the janissaries charge. Ui'Lel follows haltingly, checking they are spreading sufficiently.

"Advance two hundred metres to the ridge and dig in, site the rail gun teams further back. Ui'Uriah, where are your forces? You're meant to be on our left flank."

"Apologies Ui'Lel, the Gue'la Janissaries appear to think that some spidervine is sufficient reason to stop moving forward, I'm teaching the monkeys the error of their ways, they are coming to link up now, aren't you filthy gremlins?" The com shuts off to the sound of Ui'Uriah's hoof connecting with a human behind.

"One day Uriah, one day you'll realize that even the humans have a place in the Greater good." Ui'Lel tells the sky. Then he walks off to supervise the defenses, very soon a horde of dirty imperial soldiers are going to be making their way through this valley mouth, and its going to be the Jann's job to hold the attack whilst the remainder of the Cadre attack the enemy from the rear. Once again Ui'Lel wished he could be with them in his battlesuit. But that is not what the greater good demands. So be it.


	2. Chapter 2

Light filtered in through the thick canopy, only slightly illuminating the armoured column rolling through. Fifteen Hellhound flamethrower tanks and twenty Chimera APCs advanced through a thicket of house-sized mushrooms, punching a ten foot hole in the undergrowth. Peter Mckellan sat atop the second Chimera in the line, wondering how the hell he was going to get out of this one.

Barely five hours earlier he had been rudely awoken and told to head to the staging area of the 42nd/309th Karkol/Firrian, a mongrel formation made from two understrength regiments merged together. He was further directed to the 2nd company. He then slouched against a clump of barrels, observing his soon-to-be comrades. They seemed to be of the stronger type, the Firrians apparently came from a jungle world, albeit a much friendlier non lethal one than Lady Phaedra. This meant that less of them suffered from the usual casualties of drinking the local water, getting stung by bugs and standing too close to plants that had teeth and hissed at you. On the whole they looked pretty solidly built. A good bunch to hide behind. McKellan tried to remember why they'd been merged, something about a loss of officers if memory served him correctly. They were new to Phaedra though, the only other experience coming from urban environments on some non-fungal non-hell-world. They were in for a

Then all plans went to hell as a black coated officer walked up to McKellan.

"What can I do for you Commissar sir?"

"Well the troops are ready to be briefed lieutenant, with your permission?"

"Err... you may be a bit confused sir, I'm a private."

"Ah, I see, from your uniform I thought you might be someone else. I don't suppose you could point me to lieutenant Peter Mckellan?"

"I'm Peter McKellan sir, but I don't know why you think I'm a lieutenant."

"Did you not get the promotion news then? No matter, I have your rank pins here. Now with your permission I will now brief the company."

And with that the Commissar leapt atop a tank, gestured for Peter to follow. And called the formation to order.

"The time has come! Time to take the fight to the Xenos! Show me your grit brethren, show me your resolve. Show me you are worthy of being called guardsmen!

"Meet your new commander, lieutenant McKellan! This man has personally faced hundreds of enemies and stared death down multitudinous times! He will lead you north, approximately twenty miles. There the front lines begin, we will link up with the 38th Lethean Irregulars and commence an assault on the alien filth's command base for this region. We will be supported on the right flank by the 37th Lethean and your 3rd company.

"Lieutenant, take command of your men. We leave in five minutes. May the God Emperor bless this journey." With that he jumped down and strode into the command Chimera, setting about making a cup of caffeine. Looking at the men again, with their shiny bright eyes and expectant faces, McKellan reevaluated. He was not going to be able to hide, not now that this lot expected him to be a brave and noble leader. Survival odds had just plummeted.

The next two minutes McKellan spent acting tough and knowledgeable like a commander should be, which was probably the best bit of acting he had ever done. The company then took four minutes to mount up in their Chimera transports. There was some grumbling from the Commissar about being late, but then ten minutes were wasted whilst 3rd company got its knickers out of a twist. Apparently one of their chimeras had to be scrapped because of its drive shaft's state. The dispossessed squad was forced to ride on the back of a Hellhound instead.

After 2 hours of hacking a path through the forest they reached the front lines, however there was no sign of the Letheans. The Commissar ordered them to press on regardless, these tanks were more than a match for the enemy, he reasoned.

And now we get to the present. Convoy rumbling on, troops sweating their souls out and the Commissar was making yet another batch of caffeine in the tank below.

"Are you sure you don't want any lieutenant? There's plenty to go around." He said, sticking his head through the crew hatch.

"I'm fine thanks Commissar, I'm OK out here."

"Yes, why do you stay out here? Its much safer inside from snipers."

"But is much safer outside if the tank is hit by a railgun. I'll take my chances sir."

"Suit yourself."

The comm buzzes. "Lieutenant, there is a valley up ahead. Looks to be a mighty fine place for an ambush if you ask me."

"Yeah, disembark the first section sergeant, and get a sentinel up there to check it out, I don't want any surprises. Surprises would be bad."

"Scratch that sergeant." The commissar interrupts. "Keep the convoy moving lieutenant. We have waste enough time anyway."

"Yes commissar."

"Squad one to, err, Sentinel one, what can you see?"

"Aajack here, noth-/-"

White noise overwhelms the radio then it cuts off completely.

"Anyone got line of sight on sentinel one?"

"Shit, I see smoke!"

"Sentinel four coming up on Aajck's last known position."

"What do you see sentinel four?"

"Aajack is down! Contac-"

A blizzard of bright blue bolts descend on the convoy, ripping apart the foliage around them but leaving the tanks only scorched.

"Hellhounds, advance. Infantry disembark. Smoke them out!"

As the company fanned out and moved towards the mouth of the valley the infantry swept outwards with tanks clustering in the centre. Hellhound tanks are largely made of a large fuel tanker with tracks and a flamethrower attached, they were built for this kind of warfare. Burning a swathe of fungus and jungle ahead of it, the lead tank reached a clearing in the forest between the ridges of the valley and the forest floor. For the first time that day they glimpsed the red sky and setting sun. But it was not to last.

A white contrail rips through the first of the flamer tanks, instantly igniting the fuel reserves and turning a previously solid lump of metal into a cloud of fiery gas.

"Ambush! Railguns on the ridgeline!"

Another tank goes up in flames.

The column starts to panic.

McKellan is no longer on Phaedra, he is now in hell.


	3. Chapter 3

The column crawled its way forward towards Ui'Lel's position.

"Janissaries, prepare to engage."

A Bipedal armoured walker reared out of the mass.

"Shas'Ui, there is a sentinel inbound, its headed straight for one of the railgun teams."

"Gue'Ui Gerhurd, you have permission to fire at your discretion."

"Aye Shas'ui. For the Greater Good."

"Wait Ui'Lel. Let me deal with this adversary." Ui'Uriah interrupts.

"As you wish, you're welcome to it, I know the Gue'Vesa you're thinking of. Squad leaders, you're to engage when you see fit, target the walkers and flametanks first then deal with the transports and infantry."

A chorus of "ayes" echoed back.

Gue'Vesa'Ui Caitlin is a mercenary converted to the greater good. The world she comes from is backwater and low tech, but their natives possess a fierce animal cunning. This is shown in their choice of firearms, and this one had retained their weapon.

It was a long rifle of unwieldy proportions. It was rifled and was bolt action with a cordite propellant, but it was the ammunition that defined it. Each round was the size of a mans thumb, and was composed of a spiral of leaf-like razored metal slivers too small and complexly intertwined to manufacture accurately by machine. Each leaf had to be carved by hand and needed an artificer to meld together without breaking them. It was an art that the master had only entrusted to 2 other people. Nobody touched the gun and lived.

"Whenever you're ready Caitlin." Ui'Uriah called.

From the position on the ridge the bullet exited the rifle at relatively low speed, the blast silenced by the muffler around the barrel. The slug flew in an exaggerated arc through a couple of leaves and straight through the window the sentinel's pilot had opened. As the bullet collided with the man's face it dug in and sliced open the skin of his cheek. At that point the tip of the slug connected with the cheekbone and shattered the brittle centre spike. Razor sharp slices of steel flew out and lacerated the pilot's skull ripping off the skin and muscle, laying the bone bare. More slivers penetrated the skull and turned the brain into soup. Where a skull had stood a second before, a blood drenched mangle of flesh remained. Backwater though it was, the "Rose" was one of the most horrific instruments humanity had ever created. Ui'Lel hated it. No one should die like that.

"Railgun 2 engaging"

"Janissaries, rise and advance. Drive them from this planet. For the Greater Good."

* * *

Chaos everywhere.

Fire lit up the closing night, burning from the wreckage of a score of tanks.

The column was in disarray, half of the troops advancing, half fleeing.

Today would not be the day they took the command base, but that was not foremost in the mind of Peter McKellan, before that came survival.

Long honed skills reasserted themselves, upon hearing the crack of a railgun, Kell was straight off the tank and storming through the undergrowth to find a suitable hiding spot.

Turning around to gesture to 'His' command squad he heard the telltale crack. The hypervelocity railgun round tore through the paper front of the Chimera transport and exited in the same fashion, ripping through 2 of the disembarking squad and flattening the rest. It finally fell to rest a meter deep into the ground, but nobody was around to see that because they were all fixated on the Chimera. Or they were dead.

The fuel tank was ruptured by the round and liquid promethium, the staple fuel of the galaxy, poured out, spreading into a pool on the flooring boards. Unfortunately some of the tank's systems had been damaged, and quite a few wires were now showing through the shrapnel holes. Some of them were still live. And promethium conducts.

McKellan fled. Everyone was dead. Or dying. Or going to die.

McKellan wisely chose not to be among them.

Behind him the forest burned

* * *

"Shas'El, this is Shas'Ui'Uriah over."

"Loud and clear Ui'Uriah over."

"Column has been engaged, break. Units to right and left taking moderate fire, break. Advise to Mont'Ka over."

"Advice received, break. Mont'Ka in progress. Over and out."

"Pilot, take us down!" yelled Shas'El Blastwave

"Aye! For the Greater Good!"


	4. Chapter 4

A bird shrieked at him overhead but Kell barely noticed, fleeing was his world now.

Brush a leaf out of the way; scramble over that log; duck under that branch; McKellan's thoughts were fleeting and direct, geared towards flight.

Tree! Veer to the side. Breathe out. Branch ahead. Breathe in.

A clutch of spidervine to the right. Shit. Breathe. They havent reacted. Move around. Thunder above. Tree. More leaves. Log. Tre-

Thunder?

McKellan looked up and saw death coming for him.

"DROPSHIP!" someone screamed from the lip of the valley.

Shitshitshit

The smooth lined lander was coming straight for him.

Move. Now. Get away. Not the place to be.

He swung to the right and looked up again.

More dropships, in a line ahead, cutting off escape. Shit didnt describe how Mckellan felt.

Breathe. Think. Survive.

Go back.

Safety in numbers.

Back, back, back he fled.

* * *

"Shas'El, Orcas two through six report successful delivery! The Kroot are moving in to link with Ui'Uriah and Ui'Lel's Gue'la janissaries!"

"Are the imperials surrounded?" Blastwave asked the pilot.

"Not yet. But it is only a matter of time!" They were having a hard time being heard over the wind.

"Keep us in a holding pattern until then!"

* * *

Whilst fleeing Kell had found a few fellow runners and had gathered a squad sized force around himself.

"So lieutenant, whats the game plan?" asked one of the brighter ones, a rather large man holding his rifle like it was his girlfriend. Sometimes Kell could swear he heard him talking to it as they ran.

"We link back up with the main force, then we force our way out of this encirclement."

"Why not just do a runner now?"

"Because private, out there surrounding us are more Tau forces, either fire warrior teams or Mercenary teams. Hope that its the fire warriors. The last thing we want is a run in with Loxatl or Kroot."

"I could take them out!" a pretty female sniper added her thoughts.

"You woudlnt even know they were there before they killed you."

"Thermal scopes dont lie."

"When the enemy are using IR armour they do. How long have you spent on this dirtball anyway?"

"Two weeks."

"Well now's the time to learn about the enemy then. Tau always expect everything. They know everything about us. And they are _always_ prepared."

"Well arent you just a walk in the park. Sir."

They jogged in silence after that.

* * *

Shas'El'Vior'La'Yeldi'Lur'Tae'Mont'Kais'Vral, better known as Commander Blastwave drew his attention to the small groups of survivors fleeing the dropship landing zones. Little did they know that the dropships had already dropped their Kroot payload further on, and that they were in fact fleeing ghosts.

Any minute now they'd pass Kroot broods hidden in the trees above and the encirclement would be complete.

Any minute now.

Blastwave itched to engage, the tension was tangible, but knew it was too early. Any minute now though... Any minute now.

* * *

An incomprehensible garble issued from a tree trunk, almost like human speech yet almost birdsong.

Another answered it from across the glade.

A clipped chirp from the tree ended the conversation.

If one looked at the tree they would consider it strange that it had such a hideous bulge on one of its lower boughs. If you looked even closer you might consider it strange that part of that bulge seemed to inhale and exhale at regular intervals.

Looking at it in thermal vision you would see that the bulge emitted slightly more IR than the surroundings.

The bulge was a Kroot warrior, a mercenary of the Tau. They are humanoid creatures but with avian skulls, sporting beaks and quills to the back of the scalp. They are infiltrators of the highest calibre.

A human emerged from the undergrowth across the glade, just as the scout had reported.

A series of muted clicks emerged from the camoflauged Kroot as it ordered its brethren to hold their fire.

Another human emerged from the undergrowth after the other, then another. Eleven emerged from the treeline, sprinting for his position.

Let them pass, he told his brood, they have an officer with them, if he surrenders then we shall gain vital information.

Then capture him we shall! his bonded mate said.

No, he told her, the humans fear us, see us as monsters, they will never capitulate to us, the Tau are more civilized and are considered a worthier opponent, we leave this group to them.

I hope we find some more of them soon; I'm hungry, she replied.

* * *

"Move!" Mckellan told the girl.

She followed him away from their hideout in a tree's roots.

"Why?!"

"A sniper team was sighting on us!" he had to shout to be heard over the firing.

"How can you know that!?"

"You get to know these things on Phaedra!"

"Like what?" she asked as they hid behind another tree a couple of meters on.

"D'ya see that thin beam of purple light?"

"No!"

"Well when you do, run!"

They had been back with the main force for about ten minutes, if 'Main force' was the correct word to describe the fierce, dug-in, decimated squads that were left. All the Hellhounds were gone, and only a single Chimera was left, and that was playing dead, waiting for a railgun crew to move close enough to target.

They were in a bad way, and they had allowed the Tau to take them out piecemeal, small sections were isolated and destroyed systematically by roving Kroot teams.

And worst of all, they hadn't seen a single Tau, all they had faced so far were the avian Kroot and human slaves, deluded into thinking that the Tau were better. He had personally taught 7 the error of their ways this battle.

God-Emperor, he was starting to enjoy this, being in command.

The Survivors had eventually gathered in a rough circle around the Chimera, and McKellan had been bold enough to bag a place very close by. There were, at best estimates about hundred of them left.

As for the enemy, there appeared to be about seventy human fighters left, and an indeterminate amount of Kroot. Why dont the blasted Tau show their ugly blue faces.

Whoa now Peter, lets not get ahead of ourselves shall we, were only just surviving as it is, we dont need more promethium on the fire.

A soldier two trees along suddenly spasmed and fell to the ground, her jaw and neck a ruin of metal slivers and meat.

"JENNY!"

"Leave her, she's gone!"

"Hey! Lieutenant! That light.."

"Yes?"

"I think we should run."

"SHITSHITSHI-"

WHUMP

blackness

silence


End file.
